Decisions
by patricia51
Summary: A year after the events of "Trump Card" Mary discovers the secret Abigail took with her when she left. What will she do with the knowledge? Marshall/Abigail, Marshal/Mary. Second story of a trilogy.


Decisions by patricia51

(A year after the events of "Trump Card" Mary discovers the secret Abigail took with her when she left. What will she do with the knowledge? Marshall/Abigail, Marshal/Mary. Second story of a trilogy.)

"God what a week," mumbled Mary Shannon as she peered through the windshield of the car.

"Well it's over," pointed out her partner and best friend Marshall Mann.

"Thanks goodness for THAT. Maybe finally we have seen the last of that weasel."

"We can always hope."

It definitely had been a week of chaos. The pair of US Marshals had once more found themselves taking care of what appeared to have become their own perpetual pain in the ass, Ronnie Dalambert aka McIntire aka whatever name he was going under this week. It had been a week filled with dodging assassins, avoiding an attempted bombing and of course the inevitable attempt by Ronnie to expand his pocket money by conning someone. To his credit Ronnie had announced he was forever swearing off anything involving any member of the Navy. That was good because both Mary and Marshall had been sorely tempted to let three extremely angry SEALS perform their announced plan of tearing Ronnie limb from limb. Only his hasty refund of the money had persuaded the Marshals to step in and convince the Sea, Air and Land warriors to forego their revenge. They had barely found the time to save their witness from the actual gunmen trying to kill him.

Mary's cell phone buzzed. She sighed, wishing they were in one of the regular cars with the standard hands-free option. Since they weren't, she slowed and answered it reluctantly, knowing she was too tired to be doing that while driving. Fortunately the call was short and she was able to confine her replies to a repetition of "Uh-huh".

"What was that all about?" inquired Marshall.

"That was Brandi. Mark and the baby are with her and Peter at their place." Mary was glad that Brandi had worked through her issues and returned and that her now brother-in-law had not just forgiven her for her running off but actually seemed to understand it. The resultant wedding had been low key, with nothing more than a half-dozen people involved.

"Well you can drop me at my place and then head over there."

"Good...," Mary paused for a tremendous yawn, "idea."

"Or you could call them back; tell them you'll see them tomorrow and then crash in my spare bedroom."

Mary wavered. Seeing the uncharacteristic indecision on her face Marshall pressed on.

"Mary Junior will be in bed by this hour. There's no point in you having an accident because you fall asleep on the way home. I'm sure you've got something in your travel bag that's clean for you to wear tomorrow."

Mary hated it when Marshal acted protective. Actually she didn't mind it; she just hated it to be vocalized. It was worse this time because he was right. She really was too tired to drive home. So they made it to Marshall's, she called Brandi back to say she'd be there in the morning and headed up the stairs to her partner's place. She was shaking her head as she snapped her phone shut.

"What?" asked Marshall.

"God, Brandi was so excited to be keeping the baby overnight. You'd think she wants one of her own or something." Marshall wisely held his tongue, simply pointing towards the spare bedroom.

Tempted though she was to simply fall into bed fully clothed Mary changed into a large loose -shirt and brushed her teeth before yanking back the covers.

"God Marshall, when did you change the sheets in here last?" She climbed in and pulled the covers up. As she reached for the light she was struck by a thought concerning a case completely unrelated to the one they had just completed but something that had been tugging at the corner of her mind for days. She knew if she didn't make a note of it now it would slip back into that area where nagging thoughts disappear. She sighed and sat up.

Pulling open the drawer on the nightstand she fumbled inside. Dust flew and she nearly sneezed. Marshall must have moved this back here without ever opening it when he returned back to this apartment. A pencil came immediately to hand, followed by a handful of unopened envelopes. She grabbed the largest one and wrote on the back without looking at the front. Satisfied with the results she laid back down, turned off the light and was asleep in moments.

Wrapping up the report on the latest Ronnie circus took a couple of days. It wasn't until then that Mary pulled out the notes she had written and transcribed them into the other report she had due. She picked up the envelope to toss it in the trash can. Moved by an impulse she turned the envelope over.

"Doctor Susan Griffin?" Mary said aloud. "I know her."

"Know whom?" asked Marshall as he returned from Stan's office apparently in time to hear the second part of her comment but not the first.

"Just someone I heard of from someone else I know." Mary casually turned the envelope back over and when Marshall's back was turned slipped it out of sight.

Susan Griffin was in practice with her own Ob-Gyn. That wasn't particularly earth-shaking nor was the fact that the name on the front of the envelope is Little Teenaged Miss Nancy Drew. Or rather, Detective Abigail Chaffee. But it WAS interesting.

"I like Abigail," she remembered telling Marshall.

"And yet you hide it so well," he had replied in his usual dry fashion.

Mary sighed. He hadn't understood. It wasn't Abigail herself that she objected to. Well maybe in a way, the abstract way that Mary felt about all perky, smiling perpetually cheerful women. And with porno eye-shadow although Mary confessed she really didn't get the whole make-up thing anyway. But the biggest reason she had objected to Abigail was that she was there. There with Marshall, taking time away from the people he should be spending his time with, which mostly meant her. Now that Abigail was gone that facet of her life was back to normal even if nothing else was. And she needed that with the baby and Mark proving that he wasn't the guy he had been twenty years ago and cluttering up her life and her heart. She NEEDED Marshall to be her rock and if he was busy with Nancy Drew he couldn't give her his full attention.

That night after baby Mary was asleep in her crib and Mark on his couch she pulled out the envelope. She held it in one hand, tapping it into her other palm.

Open it or not? Silly question. She ripped the envelope's flap, took the letter out and scanned it. With a groan she dropped it on the coffee table that she had her feet propped up on. She rubbed her eyes.

Why or why had she just once resisted the temptation to pry? Because if she had then she wouldn't know what she knew now about Abigail. And Marshall didn't know it she was willing to bet large sums of other people's money.

It certainly cleared things up. Kind of. It was obvious why she had left, not only Marshall but Albuquerque and New Mexico.

But why hadn't she told Marshall he was going to be a father? Why had she avoided telling Mark the same thing? But Marshall and Mark were completely different, far though her ex-husband had come. It didn't occur to her, as always, how far she herself had come from those long ago days.

Now that her curiosity had led to know something that she really wished she hadn't discovered what was she going to do with the information? She sat back and contemplated. She was surprised by her reactions.

First of all she was angry, angry at Abigail. Furious in fact for allowing herself to get pregnant which, she acknowledged, was quite the kettle calling the pot black. But she was also angry at Abigail for not telling Marshall.

Maybe it wasn't Marshall's baby? Mary dismissed that thought immediately. Although they had never got any closer than a guarded kind of friendship, well toleration on her part, she knew Abigail well enough to know she would never cheat on Marshall. So why hadn't she told him?

She checked the date on the letter and grimaced. Because this had come right about the last time they had had to deal with Ronnie and the incident at the courthouse when Marshall moved to protect her rather than Abigail when the gunfire had started. When he told her how he had explained what happened to Abigail Mary recalled calling him a "douche-bag".

So Abigail had left because she believed Marshall would always put his partner first. But over his child? That would never happen. But although the female Marshal was not the most empathetic woman in the world she saw the problem. Abigail might, probably did, think that Marshall might believe she got pregnant on purpose to trap him. Pretty sneaky if that was true but highly unlikely.

Mary groaned again. So what now? Did she tell Marshall? But what could she tell him? Abigail was pregnant when she left. Had she kept the bay or given it up or terminated the pregnancy? She was going to have to find that out. No sense in telling Marshall if his child wasn't around or available. She started as she realized she had assumed that she would be telling Marshall. She managed to stifle yet another groan before she woke up baby Mary or Mark.

First thing in the morning she decided. She needed the computer at the office to search for Abigail. Maybe once she knew more about what had happened in the last year to Nancy Drew she could make some kind of intelligent decision about what to do.

Mumbling to herself she checked on the baby and on Mark. Both were sleeping soundly and looked to maintain that state all night long.

She knew she wouldn't.

(The End)

(Maybe this should have been chapters rather than independent stories but I really didn't plan on continuing "Trump Card". So I changed my mind. Sue me. The third story in the trilogy will be from Marshall's POV. I hope.)


End file.
